This Ain't Gotham
by Immicolia
Summary: Edo keeps himself busy at night, and turns to Ryo for help when he needs it.


_A/N: this is a bit of a rewrite (redo?) of something I initially wrote for the 31 days community on Livejournal. The initial ficlet was a lot more silly and lighthearted and after doing it I realized that I really had a craving to do more with Edo's crimefighitng antics. Resulting in this._

* * *

Edo calls himself "Destiny" of all things.

Calls himself Destiny and runs around like a madman in the middle of the night, looking for trouble so he can dive in and stop it. Showing up on Ryo's doorstep in the wee hours of the morning bruised and battered and grinning wildly although he never talks about it. Perhaps sensing the disapproval radiating off of Ryo and jealously guarding the details to himself so his "fun" can't be spoiled.

The first time, Ryo berates him. Calls him six different kinds of an idiot and points out that what he's doing is just as illegal as what he's trying to stop. Let alone the fact that he could get hurt, or killed, or worse. Edo simply sticking his nose in the air and ignoring him and it's like they're in that other dimension all over again; where Edo kept getting that look on his face like he wanted to dive in and save the whole goddamn world no matter how many times Ryo kept insisting that they couldn't get involved.

After a while it falls into a pattern. Edo shows up on his doorstep (sometimes just bruised, sometimes bleeding, almost always smiling wryly) and Ryo frowns and mutters about how he should shut the door in Edo's face right this minute. Not that he does, stepping aside and letting Edo saunter off in the direction of the bathroom so he can clean up. Occasionally following when it looks like Edo might need help with the bandaging and doing his best to make his displeasure known without saying a word.

It always ends with tea (although this early in the morning Ryo would prefer coffee, heart problems be damned) and a _very_ early breakfast with Edo smiling brightly at him the whole time, making small talk like there's nothing out of the ordinary about this whole arrangement. And although Ryo hates to admit it, he actually enjoys that particular part of the whole mess. Edo's quick witted with a dry sense of humour and despite a rocky beginning that can only be surmised as a bitter rivalry Ryo can't help but enjoy his company on some level.

They're friends, no matter how much Edo prefers to deny that fact.

One night, it's bad. Edo showing up pale and looking about ready to faint, leaving a small trail of blood behind him on the floor (a few drops here, a few drops there) and Ryo doesn't even bother putting up the disapproving front as he hustles Edo inside and towards the bathroom. Torn somewhere between fury and fear and keeping his jaw clenched tight to stop himself from saying something he'll end up regretting. The only sound Edo's harsh breathing and the occasional grunt of pain when Ryo helps him out of his shirt to assess the damage.

"You need stitches," Ryo finally manages to bite out between clenched teeth as he attempts to bandage Edo's wound as tightly as he can. Holding on to the anger just as tightly, if only because it's the safer emotion and entirely unsurprised when Edo lifts his head to glare right back at him.

"No hospital."

"Dammit, Phoenix..."

"Unless you're planning to stitch me up yourself, Hell Kaiser, I said no." That aggravating wry smile managing to curl its way across Edo's features through the mask of pain. "I go to a hospital, and they'll ask how it happened. And that's not a question I'm inclined to answer truthfully. Nor do I really want to lie about getting jumped in an alley. And that's not even getting into what'll happen when the press finds out."

"Don't be an idiot, Edo. Even if you somehow manage to not bleed out because of this, you're going to wind up with a nasty scar if it doesn't get stitched."

"I'll deal. Besides, like they say, you should see the other guy."

Ryo isn't sure what makes him pause. If it's the forced levity of Edo's tone or the way his smile transforms into something almost manic. Whatever the reason he finds his mind being drawn towards those all too familiar fears of a broken body left to die on dirty concrete. Only this time it's not Edo he's picturing lying there.

"Did you kill..." Ryo's voice chokes off before he can finish and Edo shakes his head. Resting one bloodstained (his blood, or someone else's?) hand on top of Ryo's in some attempt to reassure as he murmurs, "Not tonight."

"Have you?" The next question escaping Ryo's throat without a thought and the look Edo shoots him in response is so guarded, yet so vaguely aggravated and long-suffering, that he can only imagine the worst. Muttering, "Dammit, Edo," under his breath even while some distant portion of his mind wonders if this arrangement of theirs makes him an accessory after the fact.

"It's a loaded question, Hell Kaiser, and you know it," Edo retorts after a moment. "Of course I've killed before. So have you, or did you forget the whole 'Dark Hero' thing? Or is it, what happens in an alternate dimension stays in the alternate dimension?"

"We essentially wound up in the middle of a _war_, Edo. It was kill or be killed."

"And we killed them." Edo shrugging vaguely, wincing when even that slight movement pulls at his wound. "That doesn't change."

"Fine. How about we leave the moral and ethical quandaries of war in another dimension for another day and concentrate on _this_ world for now. Have you murdered anyone since starting your asinine little vigilante hero game?"

"No."

"Would you tell me the truth even if you had?"

Edo stays steadfastly silent for a moment and Ryo is tempted to shake him, injuries be damned, when the younger man suddenly speaks up again. Saying simply, "I'm not a murderer, Ryo."

"Of course not, you're a _hero_," Ryo sneers in return, busying himself with picking up bloodstained towels and washcloths off the floor and knowing in the back of his mind that he's going to have to replace all of them. "Or you like playing at being one, anyway. But _this_ should be proof enough that this isn't a goddamn game, Phoenix." Ryo unable to stop himself from waving the wad of bloody cloth under Edo's nose for emphasis. "You're not Batman and this sure as hell isn't Gotham City."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"So what, you think I just do this for kicks? Because I think it's _fun_?" Edo carefully easing himself to his feet so he can at the very least attempt to look Ryo in the eye.

"No. I have no idea why you do it, other than a few theories about you not being over your father's death and needing a shrink something fierce. All I know for sure is that I can't help you with this anymore."

"Can't, or won't?"

"Won't," Ryo clarifies without the slightest bit of hesitation. "I don't want your blood on my hands anymore, Edo. And I sure as hell don't want anyone else's on my hands the day you go too far and seriously hurt someone. Be it accidentally or intentionally."

"Fine. Lend me a shirt so I can leave and I'll be out of your hair. For good. The only time you'll see me is if we happen to be at the same event."

Ryo says nothing, fetching an old tee shirt (that's about a size too big on Edo) and watching in silence as the younger man eases it over his head. Thinking for a moment about the vague comfort and camaraderie that usually followed Edo showing up on his doorstep before shaking it away.

It's better to just let it go. Edo's obsessed, not well, and Ryo really shouldn't have been encouraging this as much as he did by not saying anything before. Edo doesn't need someone to patch him up after his nightly excursions. He needs...

"Edo, get some help."

Edo pauses, halfway out the door, and aims a quick sneer over his shoulder in Ryo's direction. "I _had_ help, Hell Kaiser. You're the one who pulled away. Remember that."

Then he's gone. And Ryo isn't quite sure what's right anymore.


End file.
